


Darling Pretty

by Meelah



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Play, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Light Dom/sub, Open Relationships, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6240208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meelah/pseuds/Meelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela comes home to Hawke and Merrill after some time on the sea. She is very warmly welcomed back.</p>
<p>Written for Wintersend Exchange 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling Pretty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daxolotl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxolotl/gifts).



> _It's time to come away, my Darling Pretty_   
>  _It's time to come away on the changing tide_   
>  _Time to come away, Darling Pretty_   
>  _And I need you darling by my side_   
>  _—"Darling Pretty", Mark Knopfler_
> 
> Note: there is a (brief) mention of Isabela having a (semi-regular sexual) relationship with a man. If that's not your thing, skip this one.

When Isabela crawls off her ship it's almost morning, and the first light just starting to pink the horizon. Even Lowtown is quiet at this hour, maybe just minutes away from waking up again, and only few stray dogs are rummaging around in the trash. Isabela leaves the docks behind and makes her way up the hill and towards home. She halts at the door for a second to find her keys before opening the door quietly, turning the key in the lock while pushing the door in to stop it from creaking, then pulling it open.

Home. 

It's strange to think about this house that way now — after so many years at sea and sleeping in hammocks and taverns and strange beds – that there is a place here that is always there for her, regardless of how long she’s been away. Isabela stops and breathes in the smell, safe and familiar with a faint lingering smell of whatever was for dinner. 

She walks into the small living room, amidst it's usual organised chaos and sits down on the sofa to unlace and remove her boots. Isabela sees Merrill's books spread out and whatever it is that she's currently working — it appears to be some kind of poultice. When Isabella lifts the lid on the tall container she immediately regrets it when the foul smell escapes and she slams it shut. Hawke's presence is less obvious but Isabela knows what to look for: a half finished letter neatly folded away between books on the shelves, and she knows that if she unrolled it she would find rows and rows of Hawke's meticulous script in straight lines evenly spaced out. Isabela's never had the patience to write letters like that, but she enjoys reading them — and Hawke always writes should Isabela spend more than few weeks away.

Isabela discards her scarf and starts unpinning her hair, getting up from the plush sofa and makes her way upstairs. She peeks into the bedroom and finds them both asleep — Merrill sprawled out almost diagonally half under the covers, and Hawke curled up on the edge, one arm hanging off the bed. Isabela grins to herself leaning on the doorframe for few seconds before continuing to the bathroom where he removes rest of her pins, and starts washing her face.

She hears Hawke before she sees her, her eyes closed while washing her face. She reaches back for a towel and Hawke hands it to her without a word, letting her fingers linger on Isabela's.

"Didn't mean to wake you up from your beauty sleep," Isabela says, rubbing her face with the towel.

"If I get any more prettier than this I'll have to start charging people for looking at me," Hawke says and Isabela can hear the smile in her voice.

When Isabela lowers the towel she can see in the mirror Hawke, leaning relaxed against the wall wearing half a smirk and not much else, watching her back. As soon as Isabela puts the towel down Hawke moves closer, wrapping her arms around Isabela's slender waist.

"Hey," she murmurs and kisses her jaw from behind, watching her face in the mirror.

"Hey," Isabela grins and enjoys the touch for few seconds before twisting around so they can turn the kiss into something more welcoming.

A moment then: Isabela, her lower back against the edge of the counter, hands on Hawke’s hips pulling her closer. Hawke, fingers buried in Isabela’s thick hair, kissing her gently at first, like getting reacquainted, and then _yes it’s really you_ deepening the kiss because _I missed you and now you’re here_. Hawke’s leg presses between Isabela’s thighs and Isabela shifts her leg to press against Hawke, eliciting a soft sigh from her. Both grin into the kiss, finally breaking it.

“When have I not given as good as I get?” Isabela murmurs, hand stroking Hawke’s soft skin on her hip but not letting it wander further up or down.

“Maybe we should discuss this… in bed?” Hawke breathes, burying her face into Isabela’s neck, breathing in her smell and lips gently brushing the skin. “Or better yet, not discuss it… in bed.”

Isabela grins wider, she's missed that dry wit. “How’s Merrill?” she asks, pulling her hands away, removing her earrings and her necklace and dropping them into a little bowl by the sink. "I saw that she's been working on some new concoction or other." 

Hawke's eyes follow Isabela's hands and when she's done Hawke takes them, pulling Isabela with her. "Come and see," Hawke says and Isabela follows.

Merrill is still asleep when they get back to the bedroom, she's still stretched out on the bed but now half laying where Hawke had previously slept.

"She's always trying to take over. It's worse when you're not here, at least with three people she attacks both of us equally," Hawke chuckles.

Merrill stirs a little, waking up to the missing heat of Hawke's body that was previously present. Large eyes, blinking, trying to focus and when she sees Isabela she smiles sitting up dazed.

"You're back!" she grins happily. "Ma vhenan, I missed you!"

Isabela crawls on the bed to kiss her. "Hello kitten," she murmurs between Merrill's eager little kisses, and then laughing. "Wait wait, we'll get there."

Merrill's fingers have gotten caught on the laces of Isabela's top, but then Hawke is there then, helping her and pulling the top off and trapping Isabela's arms in the process. Merrill is quick to take advantage of the situation and kisses a heavy breast free from it's confines, sucks on the dark nipple and then — because he knows how much Isabela likes it — bites down on it.

"Oh, fuck," Isabela pulls a quick breath, trying to pull his arms free but Hawke is holding her still and Isabela can feel her steely muscles as Hawke flexes them. If she wanted to hold Isabela still for real, she could probably do it.

Merrill looks up and grins, licking her fingers before sliding them down Isabela's thigh. Isabela lets out a low sigh, parting her legs, blinking heavy but not breaking the eye contact with Merrill who grins even wider.

"So wet," she whispers, and her fingers stroke Isabela lightly before she pulls them to her mouth, licking them. "So wet… for us, ma vhenan?"

"Ah—" Isabela leans back at Hawke, trying to get her arms free again but it's just for show now. She settles into a more comfortable position and spreads her legs more. "Come on, kitten… don't tease a girl like that…"

Hawke grins against Isabela's cheek, "Let us welcome you back?" she murmurs, tightens her grip on Isabela's arms for a second. And it feels… secure. Safe, even.

Merrill doesn't wait for an answer, she presses against Isabela, her nipples hard through the thin nightie she's wearing and her lips warm and soft against Isabela's. At the same time his hand slides down again and Isabela sighs as the finger finds her clit, then rubbing. The little elf surprises her again and again, outwardly naive and even simple, but then there's _this_ side of her — playful and at times even dominant. It's not the first time Isabela's had the tables turned on her unexpectedly, though Hawke usually doesn't takes sides but sits on her ass and laughs until it's time to join in.

This time though, oh, she's definitely a co-conspirator. Isabela's sandwiched between the two of them: Hawke slowly rocking into her, Merrill kissing her and and her fingers moving in long teasing strokes, finding the rhythm and timing it with Hawke's movements. Isabela draws in breath quietly and then, she can't hold on any longer and moans out loud. Hawke laughs, and Merrill too, finally pushing fingers inside Isabela watching her jaw go slack.

"Good girl—" Hawke whispers, she sounds out of breath. "Just let her, you know how good she is…"

Oh Isabela knows, her back arches a touch and she wants more, wants the fingers deeper. Her eyes flicker to Merrill's who seems to be waiting for her to ask for it, keeping the thrust of her fingers slow and shallow.

"Vhenan?" she whispers, licking her lips.

"M-more—" Isabella tells her and her eyes fall closed as Merrill pulls her fingers away again, back to rubbing her clit. "Ah, fuck, not like that—"

"No?" Merrill grins and Isabela can feel Hawke's breathing change, her grip on Isabela's arms shifts as if she wants to let go but doesn't. "Not like this?"

Clever little fingers, Merrill knows how to play Isabela, she can feel her first orgasm building up and she tenses, then lets herself go with a little tremor, lets Merrill kiss her open mouth. Hawke finally lets go too and they all slide down on the bed into a disorganised heap of limbs and mouths and soft skin.

"Won't someone fuck me… properly?" Isabela sighs. "Someone. Everyone."

"You want me to get my dick?" Hawke grins, her hand caressing Isabela's hip, then curve of her breast, then the nipple between her fingers.

"I don't want you to go anywhere," Isabela pouts. "If you're not thoughtful enough to have it in the arm's reach, your fingers will do very well, thank you." And she looks at Merrill, in mock annoyance. "And yours too, I know you can do better than that."

"Testy!" Merrill asks, sitting up on her knees, finally removing her nightshirt and discarding it. "So does it mean you took no lovers while you were away? No juicy stories to tell us?"

Her lily white skin almost shines in the early dim light, such a contrast to Isabela's own brown skin as she reaches for a Merrill, pulling her closer so she can suck a perk nipple. "No… no stories this time," she murmurs.

Hawke's weight dips away for a second and then she's back with a jar of oil she uses to slick her fingers. While Merrill half straddles Isabela, one knee between her legs, Hawke pulls Isabela's legs even wider.

"No one?" Hawke asks, oiled fingers trailing up a thigh, briefly caressing her wetness before sliding further back between her legs to massage her puckered hole. "You didn't even invite Rogger for a night cap?"

Isabela gasps quietly, lifting a hip for Hawke, and Merrill sighs pressing herself against Isabela's lifted knee. Hawke massages the little ling a bit more before pushing in, but just a fingertip.

"Oh well, Rogger, of course, that goes without saying—" Isabela breathes, watching Merrill heavy-lidded who is positively blushing now. Merrill, out of two of them, loves these stories the most and sometimes Isabela indulges herself just to be able to see her face when she tells her about it. "There was this one particularly hot and humid night and— ohh—"

She's interrupted by Hawke, pushing her finger deeper into Isabela's puckering anus and she gasps. Merrill takes advantage of her arching back and wraps an arm under her, lifting.

"On your fours," she purrs. "You wanted us both?"

It takes some shuffling, giggles and moans to get them to a new position but it serves them well: Merrill laying on her back, Isabela on top of her on all fours and Hawke behind her. Hawke can't resist the opportunity, she gives Isabela a good lick tasting her juices, licking between Merrill's fingers already pushing in.

"Shit," Hawke huffs. "You taste so good, I want to eat you out properly, later…"

She sits up, licking Isabela's other hole then using her tongue and her fingers and Isabela laughs breathless, laugh that turns into a loud moan when Merrill shifts further down to lick her clit. With two pairs of hands and two tongues on her the second orgasm doesn't take long. Fingers are pressing in deep and they hold her in place as Isabela shakes, pushing back onto them.

"So fucking hot," Hawke grunts, forehead pressing against Isabela's back, letting her fingers slide out. She's out of breath and can't stop her own hips jutting against Isabela, hand tracing the curve of her body. "You. You're so fucking hot when you come."

Merrill under them is moaning too, wiping her mouth, and then laughing. "Vhenan… you're so beautiful, every part of you…"

Isabela rolls to her side so that Merrill is on one side and Hawke on the other, both drawing closer. Merrill is already touching herself, burying her face between Isabela's breasts, and Isabela reaches out for her too.

"Yeah, kitten," Isabela breathes. "Yeah—" 

Merrill lets out a sound almost like a cat's meow when she comes, a sound Isabela absolutely adores and she she's grinning so hard it almost hurts. Hawke isn't waiting for them, she's biting on Isabela's shoulder and Isabela has barely time enough to turn to her before she's already gasping and shaking. 

The afterglow is sweet and quiet, waiting for the breaths to even and arms and legs finding comfortable places to lay without being too heavy. Sweet nothings that mean everything are whispered, and there is more than one contented sigh.

It's good to be back home.


End file.
